


Strays

by bearonthecouch



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Background Relationships, Backstory, Dogs, Gen, Headcanon, Past Relationship(s), Rain, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-09 23:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17414966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearonthecouch/pseuds/bearonthecouch
Summary: "I'm adopting Fuery's dog because you of all people understand why Kain'll go out of his way to find an orphan a good home, no matter what species it is.”According to his records, Fuery grew up in a state orphanage in South City, a fate Roy easily could've shared were it not for the aunt he didn't know he had until he was dropped on her doorstep. It's not like Roy hired the kid because he needed a rescue – it's not like Roy is all that capable of rescuing – but it is true that Mustang looks at dark-haired, dark-eyed, baby-faced Kain Fuery and sees something like a window into what he might have been.





	Strays

**Author's Note:**

> "There's things I remember and things I forget  
> I miss you  
> I guess that I should  
> Three thousand five hundred miles away  
>  _What would you change if you could?_ "  
> \- Counting Crows, "Raining In Baltimore"

The dog yipped and barked, though his little canine voice sounded weak to Kain, or maybe it was just that it was overpowered by the drenching rain clattering down atop the concrete alleyway and the metal trash cans contained within. The young soldier made his way toward the darkened dead-end surrounded on three sides by the cinderblock outbuildings of East HQ. And when he crouched down to peek behind a weather-warped piece of cardboard box, a shivering ball of mostly black fur greeted him.

The dog shied away when Kain reached for him, but the longer he sat there, with the rain pouring down and soaking both of them, the more comfortable the little Shiba Inu appeared to grow. After a few minutes, the dog cautiously sniffed at Kain's outstretched hand, and a minute or two after that, he allowed the sergeant to pick him up. He butted his head against Fuery's chest as Kain held the animal close, shielding him from the storm as well as he could.

The walk from the dorms to Mustang's second-floor office in the command building took ten minutes on a good day. By the time Fuery made it to his desk, he was over half an hour late. Not that being late to the office earned much notice among their team – there were days when the colonel didn't bother to turn up until well after noon, looking all the worse for wear each time. He never apologized or explained, and after a meaningful look at Lieutenant Hawkeye, which was basically an entire conversation without words, she never said anything either. But Kain Fuery being half an hour late was rare enough to be noticeable. Especially when he was wet enough to be dripping onto the carpet. And holding a barking ball of rain-soaked, matted fur protectively against his chest.

“Is that a dog?” Havoc asked, coming closer to Fuery and reaching out to try to pet the puppy before Kain gently pulled him away.

“He's shy.”

The puppy did seem reluctant to leave the shelter of Kain's arms, so Havoc just sighed and hopped up onto the nearest desk, swinging his feet back and forth and chewing on an unlit cigarette. “He's soaked,” he pointed out needlessly.

“I found him all by himself out there in the rain. I couldn't leave him there!”

“You can't keep him in the office,” Falman said. Kain looked up. He hadn't even thought the older man was paying attention, but sure enough, there he was, standing at the filing cabinet installed in the far corner and scrutinizing Fuery with narrowed eyes and a serious expression. Kain had no doubt the man would be able to quote exactly which rule-point-number-dash-subsection of the military code prevented him from bringing a dog into their workspace, but that didn't change the fact that the helpless puppy had been alone and freezing in the drenching downpour that still pounded down outside Mustang's window, visible through the pushed-open door that revealed his empty personal office.

“Damn right, you can't!” Breda snapped, from across the room.

Havoc rolled his eyes. “The dog's like the size of my hand, Heymans.” After a moment, he added, “And it hasn't bitten Fuery yet.”

As if in agreement, the puppy let out a little yelp. Kain smiled, and ran his thumb behind the dog's ear. “I wish I could keep him,” he said softly. “But pets aren't allowed in the dorms.”

“You could move out of the dorms,” Havoc suggested, not for the first time. He'd grabbed civilian housing as soon as it became an option upon graduation from the academy, needing more independence than military barracks would allow.

But Fuery had never expressed discomfort with the idea of communal housing, or the list of rules that came with it. At least until today, when it meant he couldn't take his new furry friend home with him.

The puppy squirmed in Kain's arms, then opened his mouth in a wide yawn.

“He is kind of cute,” Havoc admitted.

“Can you find him a home?” the sergeant asked hopefully.

“Nah, my apartment doesn't let dogs in either. Not without an outrageous pet fee added to the rent.”

“He said 'find' not 'take,'” Falman reminded Havoc. “ _You_ don't have to keep the dog.”

“That's right,” Kain chirped, as he finally gave in to the dog's increasing struggles and set him down onto the floor. The puppy bolted across the worn carpet and lifted a leg against the wall.

Exactly at the moment when Lieutenant Hawkeye walked into the room, with Colonel Mustang closely behind her. Kain gulped.

“Does anyone care to explain why there's a dog peeing on my wall?” Mustang asked, his voice riding the indiscernable razor's edge between anger and amusement. Kain first confirmed that he wasn't wearing his fire gloves, thankfully, and then looked to Lieutenant Hawkeye for help.

“Fuery found a puppy,” Havoc announced, while Kain stood there trying to muster up the words that would explain why he'd been absolutely certain this was a good idea when he'd done it.

“He was... he needed me.”

For being a supposed expert in communications, Fuery often found himself jealous of other men who always seemed able to project confidence and intelligence when they spoke. Colonel Mustang, for example, is highly unlikely to ever find himself in this sort of situation.

But Hawkeye accepted his comment as though there were nothing unusual about it, and dropped onto her knees a pace or so away from the dog. The puppy picked up its head to look at her, its dark black eyes meeting her brown ones.

“You can't do that kind of thing inside,” Riza said sternly. The dog whimpered and then lay down in front of her, submissive and trusting. Hawkeye stroked the puppy's head for a moment before glancing back up at Fuery. “I'll get you both some towels. These wool uniforms are miserable when they're wet.”

And they take significantly longer than the ten minutes or so that Fuery's been inside to dry. He followed after the lieutenant as she went off in search of the towels. “Does this mean you'll look after the puppy? I just... I don't want to abandon him again. I don't want him to be all alone.”

“I'll take the dog if you clean his mess off the carpet.”

“Yes!” Kain practically cheered. “Of course I will. You know I will.”

Riza just smiled. She'd known he'd take care of it before she'd even made the proposal. Kain Fuery is dependable and trustworthy and still new enough to the military to make an effort to look good for the sake of his superior officers. And he hasn't fought a war. He's still innocent.

By the time Fuery and the puppy were dry and warm enough for him to slip on a pair of headphones and attempt to get some work done, Riza had made arrangements to go out with Catalina at lunch time to buy dog things: a leash and collar, bowls and food, bones and training treats. The dog stuck close to Kain, nestling under his desk for most of the morning. But by mid-afternoon, Riza lured him out with small bits of food and gave him a name: Black Hayate. “He'll grow into it,” Hawkeye said, when Havoc made it obvious that he thought that the skittish and underfed animal he was observing had nothing in common with a fierce force of nature.

Fuery quietly approved of the name, and in general was buoyed by the sense of contentment that came from both rescuing the puppy and discovering that he could trust Lieutenant Hawkeye in a way he never would've anticipated before this rainy day.

He stayed a little later at the office than usual, to make up for his earlier tardiness, but even though he was the last one in the outer office, Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye were still in his private office, deep in the middle of some sort of correspondence with Central, while Hayate dozed in a corner near the heating grate.

Hawkeye, conditioned to acute awareness by the battlefields of Ishval, looked up the moment Kain approached the open door. Belatedly, the colonel glanced up from his phone conversation, but it was obvious his attention was only barely anchored to this room.

“You can go home, Sergeant,” Lieutenant Hawkeye said calmly. “Don't worry. I'll take good care of Hayate.”

“I know you will,” he said. And then he quietly left.

* * *

A few minutes later, with his disconcerting conversation with Maes Hughes finally ended, Mustang gently rested the phone in its cradle and glanced at the dog sleeping in his office.

“You're going easy on the kid,” he said to Riza with a smile. Although Kain Fuery was less than two years younger than Hawkeye, he was still regarded as the baby of their group, despite his established maturity and skill.

Riza shrugged. “Master Sergeant Fuery has more than earned a simple favor from me. And besides, I like dogs.”

“So do I.”

Riza just rolled her eyes. There are days when she isn't entirely sure that Roy Mustang can even manage to take care of himself - a feeling she's had since she was nine years old that has only evolved with the passage of time. And now, with all the responsibilities of command and all the stress of being a State Alchemist on top of that... “You don't have time for a dog,” she said flatly.

Roy glanced down at the teetering piles of paperwork surrounding him and let out a growl of frustration that made Riza smile softly: he'd done the same thing while sending heated glares toward the scribbled notes and transmutation circles that kept him awake all night in his teenage years.

He rubbed his hand against the back of his neck and when he looked up, he said, perfectly sensibly: “How do you have time, then? You spend all your time with me.”

Riza stared at him for several seconds, and her voice shook a little as she said, very softly, “I don't, though.”

Roy sucked in a breath and settled back in his chair. “Ri...”

“Don't,” she warned. “Don't do that. Don't pretend like we can... Because we can't. You know we can't.”

He nodded, but the pain on his face was too obvious. “Is that what you're doing? Adopting Fuery's dog to make up for lonely nights? Because _you decided_ 'we can't.' I never said that.”

“That doesn't mean it isn't true and you damn well know it!” she spat. After a breath, she added, “And I'm adopting Fuery's dog because you of all people understand why Kain'll go out of his way to find an orphan a good home, no matter what species it is.”

That dug at old wounds too, and Mustang bit his lip. Riza wouldn't ever intentionally hurt him, but she never let him lie to himself either. They have _all_ lost family, and been hurt by absence, and unanswered questions, and a deep and unshakable sense of abandonment in any of several forms. According to his records, Fuery grew up in a state orphanage in South City, a fate Roy easily could've shared were it not for the aunt he didn't know he had until he was dropped on her doorstep. It's not like Roy hired the kid because he needed a rescue – it's not like Roy is all that capable of rescuing – but it is true that Mustang looks at dark-haired, dark-eyed, baby-faced Kain Fuery and sees something like a window into what he might have been. Roy had family where Fuery didn't; Fuery was too young for Ishval. Some days Roy thinks about that coin toss, and wonders if he's honestly okay with the way it landed.

Hayate snored and rolled over onto his back , and Roy is too tired to do any more work. Heart-tired, lonely-tired, bottom-of-a-bottle tired. “Take your dog home, Ri,” he said quietly.

Lieutenant Hawkeye nodded, and followed the order given by her superior officer.

Hayate barked once as he followed his new master out of Mustang's office.

Roy sighed and pulled a heavy bottle of amber liquid from the bottom drawer of his desk. And he sat there staring at it for a while before deciding to drink, drinking for a while before he picked up the phone and dialed the memorized number for Central's investigations office. Maes never went home either, at least not on nights like these.

In the first week of their friendship, Maes had accused Roy of attaching to him like a stray puppy. In typical Maes fashion, his casual teasing was actually piercingly accurate.

There aren't hugs or gentle touches between them anymore, just the familiar lullaby of each other's breathing through the phone, and low and serious murmurs or sharp and sudden bursts of laughter.

“Maes, you think I should get a dog?” Roy asked, halfway through the bottle, voice sleepy and slurred.

“Go to sleep, Mustang,” Maes replied, instead of answering. Or maybe that was the answer. “I'll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“'k,” Mustang muttered, to the answering click of the disconnected call.

* * *

The next day, the sun shone through a watery haze, and Mustang splashed water on his face in the hall bathroom and went down to the canteen for coffee rather than take the chance of confronting Riza at their office's coffee pot. He played a game of chess with General Grumman that lasted half the morning. And when he finally did turn up in his own office, Kain Fuery looked up from his radio and smiled at him, and Roy figured things would be alright.

 


End file.
